The Perilous Nemesis
by SerHolmes
Summary: True events of The Vehement Conflict. Taken from The Lost Books of John H. Watson.


**Author's Note : I only chose to write this because The Vehement Conflict was a re-imagined story of The Final Problem when I was young(with a little more detail).**

* * *

 **The Perilous Nemesis**

 _ **Excerpt from The Lost Book of John H. Watson.**_

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

I found myself standing near the fireplace of 221B Baker Street, fists clenching as I called out to my companion, the great Sherlock Holmes, "Holmes," I uttered, he gave no response as he stood, staring out the window whilst playing a tune on his violin, "Holmes!" I yelled.

"Keep it down, Watson." Holmes replied, hands still on the fiddle.

"Keep it down?! You pushed a man through a window!" I exclaimed.

"Yes but he is still alive isn't he?"

"That's not the issue here, Holmes. You risked the life of a man just because what?! He questioned your authority?!"

"He did not question my authority, Watson. He insulted my intelligence."

"Am I supposed to find comfort in that?!"

Holmes put the violin down and said, "No and I do not expect you to. Little minds do not compromise with me."

"Is this some kind of joke to you?" I questioned as I attempted to calm down.

"Not a joke, Watson. A form of simplistic education."

Just as I was about to answer that statement, Inspector Lestrade rushed in. "Did nobody teach you how to knock?" Holmes inquired.

"Sorry but we just had a case, a group of students and their teacher died in the classroom." Lestrade explained.

"Where?"

"Hodder Place, Stonyhurst."

"Far back in Lancashire? I'm sorry but I've not time for that." Holmes stood up and started walking towards the bookshelf. "Watson might be able to go however, Mary isn't around this week."

"The murderer had your name spelt out on the blackboard." Lestrade mentioned.

Holmes stopped and slowly turned towards Lestrade, "How many dead students?" Holmes questioned.

"A considerate amount."

"How many?" Holmes reiterated with a pause in between the words.

"Twenty…Twenty-two." Lestrade stammered.

"And how many teachers?"

"One." Lestrade replied queerly.

Holmes stared at Lestrade for a moment. "Watson, pack our things. We leave in an hour." Holmes ordered as he put on his deerstalker.

Having felt the chill down my spine, I dared not go against my companion's orders. I gave a nod to Inspector Lestrade and went to our rooms to begin packing. Lestrade, who was a bit shaken up by Holmes helped me pack without saying anything.

An hour later, we had just finished packing and the three of us took a cab to the train station. Whilst waiting for the train, Holmes took his pipe out of his left pocket while murmuring something. "What seems to be the matter, Holmes?" I finally asked to which he replied something along the lines of "If today… might as well… last time…", it was unclear to me what he said. The train arrived seconds later and we got on, having not a word throughout the trip to Lancashire.

Upon arriving in Lancashire, we were greeted by two of the bobbies that reside there.

"Mr. Holmes, come with us please." One of them commanded.

"I'll get to the crime scene myself, Constable Hunter." Holmes responded having read the name on his uniform.

"We're not going to the crime scene, Mr. Holmes."

"The Lancashire Constabulary then?"

"Yes, sir."

"To let the Chief Constable ask me questions about my name on the blackboard? I think I'll pass." Holmes blurted out, taking a step forward to get pass Constable Hunter.

"I'm afraid that's not an option, Mr. Holmes." The other officer replied, putting his hand on Holmes' shoulder.

"The two of you are just wasting my-"

"We will follow your lead, young constables." I interrupted, smiling at them.

"Very well." Constable Hunter acknowledged.

The two constables turned around and started walking as we followed. Holmes was silent the entire time, angry at me most likely.

We arrived at the Constabulary soon after, we were then introduced to the Chief Constable.

"Mr. Holmes." He began.

"Chief Constable Kingston." Holmes muttered.

"Apologies but, have we met?" Chief Constable Kingston queried.

"No, we haven't."

"I see. Well, let's get this started. Why was your name written on the blackboard in the school?"

"Someone wanted me here."

"And who is this 'someone'?"

"If you let me visit the crime scene instead of sitting here being interrogated, perhaps I could tell you." Holmes implied.

"Now, Mr. Holmes. You know I can't do that."

"And why the deuce not?"

"Because if your name is there, you are a suspect."

"A suspect? I was in Baker Street the entire time, you dumbfounded fool." Holmes raged.

"Please calm down, Mr. Holmes. You are free to go for now but our law enforcement units will keep an eye on you."

"Why, thank you very much." Holmes sarcastically replied as Lestrade and I stood by the side feeling the tension.

We left the Constabulary and arrived on the crime scene at half past four. The place was stunning, the trees magnificently scenic, the school amazingly built. Inspector Lestrade went towards the bobbies in front of the school as Holmes and I headed in the front door that was widely ajar. Holmes quickly dashed to the classroom which was just on the left corridor, we walked there and saw teachers and students standing outside the classroom, some weeping, some devastated, and there's Holmes barging in without any notice.

I apologized to the teachers for Holmes' behavior and went in to find the name "SHERLOCK HOLMES" and the word "DEAF" under it written with chalk on the blackboard. I turned around and saw the pile of dead bodies, hands holding up the number four, arranged into a shape of a C and Holmes' walking around the bodies. "Holmes? What does this mean?" I trilled.

"It means what it means, Watson."

"But what does the 'C' mean?"

"The 'C'"?

"The shape the bodies are arranged in."

"It's not a 'C', Watson. It's a hieroglyph meaning 'house'."

"A house?" I gave it a thought, "I'm afraid I do not understand, Holmes. The hieroglyphic house shape and the hands held up by the bodies, it all comes empty to my mind." I continued.

"It's not that difficult, Watson. The hint here is the word under my name."

"Deaf?" I noted.

"Yes, deaf. They read in sign language and the sign language of the letter B just so happens to look like the number four." Holmes pointed out as he began inspecting the classroom.

"I'm afraid I do not follow."

"22 students, 1 teacher, the letter B and a house, Watson. It's elementary."

Inspector Lestrade came in right after and uttered "What the blazes…" covering his mouth with his hand.

"There was no break in, not on the windows, not on the door. The murderer didn't leave when the victims were gassed, he must have put on some kind of mask that prevents the gas from entering his system." Holmes proclaimed as he stood by the bodies.

"Murderer? Wouldn't this be considered a case of suicide and mass murder at the same time?"

"Watson, it's unlikely for a child to gas a classroom."

"What about the teacher?"

"Watson." Holmes turned to me, "The teacher is a happily married woman who has no intention of suicide whatsoever based on her ring and the way she dresses. Besides, where would she hide the gas?" Holmes reminded me and continued investigating.

"And how did you know it was gassing?"

"Chlorine. The bodies have a mild chlorine scent on them."

"So this classroom was used as some sort of gas chamber then?"

"That it was, Watson. That it was."

Inspector Lestrade took his hand away and began walking in the classroom, he walked past the corner of the room and walked back. "Holmes." He called out.

Holmes and I went towards him with a queer look. "There's a distinctive aroma here." Lestrade revealed.

Holmes sniffed around that corner and said, "This smells like… lavender?"

"Why would there be a scent of lavender in the classroom?"

Holmes turned to one of the teachers and began questioning her, "Were there any visitors around the time of murder?"

"We have many visitors every day, sir." She quavered. "We also do not know when this happened." She cried.

Holmes grabbed her by her arms and angrily uttered "Think! Think! There must have been someone here when it happened."

"I do not know! I do not know!" She wept.

"Holmes!" I howled. "Let her go, she does not know anything!" I pulled him away. "Holmes, what has happened to you?!"

"There must be something that they know!" Holmes assumed.

"But what if they don't?! Have you thought about that with that big mind of yours?"

"Then what the deuce else were they doing?! They must have heard the sounds of the dying students and teacher while they were choked with gas!"

An argument started between us and was interrupted by a young student, possibly the age of nine, "Aren't you the doctor?" he asked, pointing at Holmes.

"No, I'm a detective, not a pesky doctor."

"A pesky doctor, is that it?" I argued.

"I wasn't specifically talking about you, Watson."

When we were both done, the student proclaimed again "You are the doctor that came here this morning."

Holmes and I gave a perplexed look to the boy and just as Holmes opened his mouth, a shout came from the back. "Holmes! There's been another murder!" shouted Lestrade.

"Where to now?" I asked with a puzzled look.

"Stonyhurst College. Not far from here."

"Holmes, shall we?" I turned back to him.

"Yes… we shall." Holmes murmured as if he just solved the case.

We headed to the college by foot and found a body just lying on the floor right in front of the college. The body was wearing a plague doctor's uniform, "The murderer?" I theorized.

"The murderer." Holmes confirmed as he took the mask of the body only to find the face of a man we recognized, Dr. Ormond Sacker.

"But, he died a few years back." I mentioned.

"Dr. Ormond Sacker. Bloody fool died a month after we sent him to Scotland Yard." Inspector Lestrade recalled.

"A dead man can't murder, but a dead man can be stolen." Holmes uttered. "This body was stolen and was dressed up as the murderer while the real murderer slipped away. The beaked mask was used by plague doctors back in the seventeenth century, and it mainly contains lavender to protect them from putrid air." Holmes declared.

"The murderer dressed up as a plague doctor then?" I inquired.

"Yes, Watson. He did." Holmes stood up and out of nowhere, a man went behind Holmes and cuffed him.

"Constable Hunter, I assure you I am not the murderer." Holmes clarified.

"What is the meaning of this?" I turned and questioned but was disregarded.

"Then explain why the witnesses saw you in that costume earlier today." Constable Hunter demanded.

"The murderer must have disguised himself to look like me." Holmes said.

"We'll let the Chief Constable decide your fate, fraud." Constable Hunter explained as he pushed Holmes into a nearby cart. He got on and rode off.

"Wait!" I yelled out. "No time for that, Dr. Watson, we have to chase after them!" Inspector Lestrade noted. We then ran and chased after the cart.

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

"You know I'm not the murderer, Chief Constable." I argued.

"And have you any alibi, Mr. Holmes?" The Chief Constable replied.

"Yes, Dr. Watson and I were in Westminster when the murders happened."

"Words mean nothing when we don't have proof, Mr. Holmes. You are an intelligent man, I expect you to know that."

"And what proof do you have of me murdering those poor sods. I had no hand in it and you know it like how the sun rises in the morning but still, you keep me here like a bloody animal. I'm not like your cheating wife, Chief Constable."

Chief Constable Kingston stood up angrily, "Do not mention my wife in front of me, detective."

"Why's that? Oh wait, she cheated on you with your brother didn't she? Sad as it may be, you know why she did it, she was sick of you, keeping her away from people for her 'safety'."

The Chief Constable punched me hard and I fell to the ground, hands still tied to the chair. "I said not to mention my wife, detective. I know your tricks and games; I've seen what you can do. You deduce the personal lives of people just by looking at them and blurt them out without caring about how they feel."

"Touché, Chief Constable. However, I'd like to remind you that this is no longer a game anymore. You know I didn't do it, release me and let me solve this case."

Chief Constable Kingston sat down again and pondered for a second, "You shall return to Baker Street, if you show up here again then we will arrest you for murder."

"Very well, but Dr. Watson stays here to investigate for me."

"No, he goes back with you. You are dismissed from this case." Kingston demanded.

"You can't stop him, Kingston. He is far more dangerous than a gassed classroom and dead body."

"You know who he is then?"

I took a glance at him, "I have my suspicion." I stated.

I was released soon after and saw Watson and Lestrade running towards the Constabulary, I explained to them that we were sent back to Baker Street, never to return here again. Watson and Lestrade gave each other a perplexed look but agreed to it. We arrived back in 221B Baker Street in the middle of the night, Watson questioned me about my behavior during the investigation but I ignored him, for it was not the time for silly questions anymore. The curtains have risen, the lights turned on, the great play has begun. I must see Mycroft; he will be of great assistance.

The next morning, Watson and I decided to pay a visit to Scotland Yard. We arrived in time to meet with Inspector Lestrade who was baffled by a new case and requested for our assistance. Upon agreeing on helping, we went back to Baker Street to read on some of my archives. "Where has Mrs. Hudson gone to?" Watson asked.

"Shopping. Her basket isn't in her room." I replied.

"Ah, I see."

"She'll be back soon enough however. She left half an hour ago."

"But we weren't here half an hour ago, Holmes. How did you know?"

"The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes."

"No explanation then. Understood."

A few minutes later, we finished reading on the topic that we needed to and decided to head back to Scotland Yard in solving the case. Just as we left the front door of 221B, Mrs. Hudson returned with a bag of groceries that she bought from the nearby farmer's market no doubt. "Are you boys off to somewhere?" She asked.

"Scotland Yard, Mrs. Hudson. Another day, another case." Watson laughed.

"How splendid, I'll see you boys later then." Mrs. Hudson smiled as she walked into 221B.

"Of course you will." I implied.

We walked down the street and just as Watson held his hand up for a cab, an explosion in 221B.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Watson cried out.

"Get in the cab, Watson. We must warn Scotland Yard." I insisted.

Watson reluctantly got in and we went straight to Scotland Yard. We told Inspector Lestrade and just as we were leaving, Lestrade told me he had something to tell me, I told Watson to go back to Baker Street with some police officers. Lestrade and I went into his office.

"Holmes, do you remember Hodder Place and Stonyhurst College?" Lestrade inquired.

"How could I ever forget?" I said.

"We got word that as soon as we left, there has been explosions in both Hodder Place and Stonyhurst College."

"Explosions?"

"Explosions only at the crime scene."

"Are you suggesting that I planted the bombs?"

"I'm telling you that Chief Constable Kingston wants you in prison."

"Despicable. You know that I did no such thing."

"I'm sure you didn't, Holmes, but the news is spreading. Soon, everyone in London will think that you blew those places up."

"Yes and we all knew that it was you."

"I beg your pardon?" Lestrade looked at me, puzzled.

"Acting isn't your forte." I explained.

"Holmes, have you lost your mind?"

"Perhaps I have, Professor James Moriarty."

Inspector Lestrade gave me stared at me and began laughing. "Oh Sherlock Holmes, smart and perceptive as always."

"Have you had your fun, Moriarty?"

"Oh, the fun is just about to begin." Moriarty chuckled.

"You truly are a psychopath at heart aren't you?"

"You flatter me."

"You led me to a school you once studied then used the body of a dead man to taunt me."

"Have you solved it then?"

"I have. Child's play really."

"Please do tell."

"I don't see a reason to."

"Show me how good you are, Sherlock Holmes. Tell me how I orchestrated the death of poor Ormond Sacker in the prison of Scotland Yard."

"You know how good I am, Moriarty. Or did Arnaud not tell you that?"

"How observant of you. The eye of the beholder." Moriarty sighed. "You and I aren't that different you know that? We're unlike those ordinary people, mindless imbeciles walking on the surface of the earth. Give us a reason and we can topple the entire world without breaking a sweat."

"But we don't have a reason."

"That's where the line divides us, Sherlock Holmes. I do, you don't." Moriarty smiled, placed his hand over my mouth and with a disguised voice, yelled, "Not my family, Holmes! They have nothing to do with this! Please don't murder them next!"

Startled, I stood up but Moriarty grabbed me and threw me to the floor and cut himself, "That hurts, please stop hurting me!" I rose and Moriarty pushed himself to the wall and the office door was broken down by the bobbies working in Scotland Yard.

"Are you alright, Inspector?" One of the bobbies questioned.

"I'm… I'm fine, but Mr. Holmes has gone berserk, he threatened to kill me and my family." Moriarty, disguised as Lestrade, lied.

"I didn't…" I tried to speak up for myself but before I knew it, I was cuffed and Moriarty said, "The Chief Constable in Lancashire wants him dead, bring him to Lancashire and face his judgement." The bobbies nodded their heads and knocked me out.

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

"Watson, get back to Baker Street. I'll meet you there." Holmes ordered. I agreed and went back to Baker Street by cab and found that the fire had cleared off. Worried, I ran in and hurried into Mrs. Hudson's room and that was where I saw her body lying beside her burnt basket of groceries. Tears swell upon my eyes as the police officers looked around the place and discovered that the bomb was placed under Mrs. Hudson's bed.

"Have you any idea who would do this, Dr. Watson?" One of the bobbies asked me.

"There could be a few people who spite the great Sherlock Holmes and maybe even me." I admitted.

"What about the man himself?"

"Who… You don't mean Holmes, do you?" I speculated.

"With all the news about him, how could we not?"

"News about what, specifically?"

"About how he bombed the crime scenes in Lancashire."

"Explosions on the crime scenes?" I stood up, "When did this happen?"

"Soon after the three of you left Lancashire as told."

I stood there incredulously, staring into nothingness. "Are you certain it was him?" I went on.

"The news seems to ring true, Dr. Watson."

I could not believe it; I shall not believe it. Holmes would never cause an explosion in a crime scene, where would he have hidden the bomb anyway? I walked out 221B carrying the face of sadness and a group of bobbies came out from a carriage and walked towards me. "Dr. Watson?"

"That is me, yes." I stammered.

"We overheard a rumor from one of the officers in Scotland Yard and we decided it's best we tell you."

"Does it concern Holmes?"

"Yes, yes it does sir… They said he threatened to kill Inspector Lestrade and his family just so he has another case to 'solve'."

"This is but a rumor… yes?"

"It is, sir… they say he'll be sent to Lancashire tonight when the clock reaches 12."

"Th…Thank you, officers."

"Sherlock Holmes helped me once, he put my brother's murderer behind bars… I wish I could've helped him in any way possible." The officer said but I ignored him.

I sat down on the stairs leading to 221B as I pondered, the officer just nodded and left with his companion. Could this be it? Did Holmes finally snap? All I could think of was his behavior in Lancashire and how it all fits perfectly, the bombing, threatening Lestrade. I was determined that Holmes has gone mad, but something inside of me doubted that, he was framed, it told me but I failed to recognize that.

Midnight was when they leave they said? Before it strikes 12 is when I'll pay him a visit then…

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

Water splashed on my face as I woke up in the prison of Scotland Yard. "Oi, get up, ya silly goose." A police officer holding a bucket looked at me.

"Why am I still in Scotland Yard? I thought I was to go to Lancashire." I inquired.

"You don't leave until midnight."

I stared into the skies and looked at the stars, "That's an hour and a half from now." I concluded.

"I'm not falling for one of yer tricks, Inspector Lestrade warned me about you."

"Lestrade? What did he say?"

"He told me not to believe anything you say."

"Good advice, that." I chuckled. "Could you help me with something?"

"No can do."

"Just a message to my brother Mycroft, you can read the contents of the letter once I'm finished."

"No. Not part of the job."

"Quite, my family won't know about my death then I suppose. Sherrinford, Mycroft, my parents." I took a deep breath, "Well, it's not like they'd notice me gone anyway, right?"

The bobby had a moment of silence when finally, "Fine, fine. One letter to your brother and I will verify the contents." He picked up a piece of paper and quill by the table.

"Make it quick." He commanded.

"Oh it will be." I began writing down about how I'm going to Lancashire to face judgement, and messed up the letter on purpose. "I seemed to have messed up the letter, could I get another piece of paper?" The bobby grumbled but got me another piece of paper. "Thank you."

I rewrote the contents of the letter but used the previous sheet to leave a hidden message for Mycroft, the bobby here wouldn't be smart enough to notice it. Once I was done, I handed him the paper and he read it and went to the telegraph machine to send it to Mycroft. Having a window in the prison cell wasn't really a smart move, even for Scotland Yard, I thought to myself. I easily broke the window and managed to escape before that bobby got back to the prison cells.

Escaping was one thing, Moriarty is another. I looked at the stars again, murmuring "Watson should be leaving by now."

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

It was an hour before midnight, 221B is nearly repaired thanks to the residents of Baker Street, they even donated some old furniture they needn't use. But as I mentioned, it was time to pay a visit to Scotland Yard. I went down and called for a cab, we rode towards Scotland Yard but as we arrived on a bridge above the Thames, I saw a figure, a silhouette I recognize as the great fraud, Sherlock Holmes. I stopped the cabbie and told him to wait for me as I came down from the carriage.

He was just standing there, by the side of the bridge, with his deerstalker, a tailcoat covered by a trench coat. I walked towards him, and he slowly looked down, turned towards me and said "You believe them, don't you?" He looked at me, "The news, the rumors, everything."

I just stared at him with contempt. Utter disdain. "So it's all true then?"

"Every single one of it. Even the bombing in 221B, that was I as well. The 'gas chamber', Dr. Ormond Sacker, all of it, Watson, it was all me."

"How could you do such a thing?!" I raged.

"I thought you would already figure it out by now, Watson. It's elementary. I manipulated them, I manipulated the Baker Street Irregulars to do what I want."

"Stop with this tomfoolery, Holmes!"

"You have doubts." He took a step forward, "But it changes nothing Watson."

I took a deep breath, "You know I have to stop you now, don't you?"

"That I understand, Watson. Which is why I'm going to give you that chance, just throw me your pistol, I'll show you."

"Why my pistol?" I doubted, putting my hand inside my coat.

"To give you what you want while giving me what I want." He held his hand out.

"Explain, before I pull the trigger." I said whilst pointing my pistol at him.

There was a moment of silence, so discreet that the breeze was all we could hear. "Explain, now!" I gave a dismal bellow, breaking the silence as I put my finger on the trigger.

"An eye for an eye, Watson. You give me your pistol, I give you my life."

"Have you gone mad?"

"Wouldn't it be a dull world without people like me?"

I didn't want to do it, to shoot him. But he is our enemy, the enemy of London. Despite that, I couldn't pull the trigger, I put my hand down and threw the pistol towards him. The pistol dropped to the floor and he crouched to pick it up. "Do it." I commanded.

Holmes looked at the pistol and then looked at me, "Mrs. Hudson will be in the abandoned warehouse by the corner of Baker Street and Melborne street. You'll find Inspector Lestrade in there as well."

I stared at him and asked, "Mrs. Hudson is alive?"

"Quite, Watson. Now tell me, why have you doubts of my actions?" He looked back to the pistol.

"I've lived with you for years, Holmes. You don't strike me as a low life criminal."

"Fair enough." He then quickly pointed the pistol at me with death in his eyes.

"What are you doing Holmes?!" I stammered.

" _La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas_." He then pulled the trigger and blackness.

I woke up to what seems to be moments later, only to find myself on a bed when a familiar face showed up, Mycroft. "Welcome back to the real world, Dr. Watson."

"My… Mycroft?"

"Now that you're awake, perhaps there is something you have to tend to?"

"Something, what?" I got up when a sting hit me on my right shoulder. I looked at it and saw it patched up. "A wound?" I murmured. Then something crossed my mind, "Mrs. Hudson!" I got up immediately and went towards the door while Mycroft just stood by the window. I would ask what happened by the Thames but my mind was all set to finding Mrs. Hudson and Inspector Lestrade.

And found Mrs. Hudson was what I did, I took a cab and went to the abandoned building Holmes mentioned. When I arrived there, the street was empty, filled only with a gloomy ambience. I paid the cabbie and headed in, the warehouse was full of pictures, uniforms, masks, and right at the end was a door. I could hear muffled screams and the sound of banging over on the other side, determined that it was Mrs. Hudson and Inspector Lestrade, I forced the door open with a strong kick.

Mrs. Hudson and Inspector Lestrade was there, sitting on chairs with hands tied to their backs, facing one wall and another. But the most damning of all, a body hanging between the two hostages, a body I soon recognized as Mr. Arnaud. "My God…" I uttered.

Mrs. Hudson then called out to me, diverting me away from the body. I hastily untied them from the chairs but as soon as the both of them got up from the chairs, a fire ignited and started burning the building. I rushed out with Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, we went to a nearby restaurant to have them fed and warned them about the warehouse.

"Mrs. Hudson, what happened?" I questioned.

"It was terrible, I was just about to go and clean your rooms when suddenly there was a knock on the door. I opened it and two figures captured me." She explained.

Just as I was about to say something, a customer walked up to me, "You're Dr. Watson, aren't you?"

"It is I. Have we met?"

"No, Gods no. We read The Strands and your stories are astonishing."

"Why thank you."

"Just a question, doctor. Is it true that Sherlock Holmes is dead?"

Stunned, I gazed into the man's eyes. "Dead?" I asked.

"There have been rumors spreading that he jumped off a bridge into the Thames and killed himself."

I was bewildered, I turned to Mrs. Hudson and Inspector Lestrade which shock in their eyes, "I… I have to go." I stood up and walked towards the door, "Inspector, get Mrs. Hudson back to Baker Street will you?".

"Why, uh..., yes, yes I will, Dr. Watson."

"Thank you, Inspector." I scurried off to the Thames. It wasn't long before I arrived there, as soon as I stepped down, I noticed a group of bobbies around the side of the river, I headed down there and one of them recognized me. "Dr. Watson. This is unexpected…" he said.

"What happened here?" I inquired.

"It's… nothing, sir. Just an inspection on the river is all." He tried to convince me but I wasn't fooled.

"It's Holmes, isn't it?" I countered.

"No, sir… Just an inspection…"

"Constable, I understand that discretion is part of your job but I know that this has something to do with Holmes, now do you mind?" I pushed my way past him and there was where I saw a deerstalker, a pistol, a pipe, and a book sitting on the edge of the river. I walked towards it and as some officers tried to stop me, a few of them stopped them instead. I took a glance on all the objects, sure enough it was Holmes' deerstalker, my pistol, and his pipe. I picked the book up and read the title " _Le spleen de Paris"_.

After spending hours by the river Thames, I decided to head back to Baker Street and that's where I realized that my cabbie was the same as last night. "You… you were there last night, you saw what happened."

"I saw nothing, sir. The fog was thick and the horses scampered away after hearing the gunshot."

"So you heard the gunshot, was there anything else you heard?"

"Nothing, sir. Just the gunshot."

I took a deep breath and said, "Baker Street."

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

" _La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas_." I pulled the trigger and shot Watson on the shoulder to ensure that he wouldn't die. He fell and the cabbie's horse neighed while he tried to calm them down, I walked up to the cabbie and said "I see Mycroft received my message." I took a glance and said, "Is that one of my disguises?"

"Well you're not using it anymore, so why not?"

"There's a term called 'personal belongings', Sherrinford. I don't suppose you understand how that works."

"At least I know that the earth revolves around the sun."

I gave him a stare, "Anyway, did you bring the book?"

"Yeah, here it is." Sherrinford grabbed the book from his coat. "To emphasize your 'criminal' side, I presume." He directed to me as I took the book away from his hand.

"Quite. I see you've been quite busy with a woman."

"Oh Sherlock, you really need to keep information like that to yourself more often."

"A habit, I'm afraid."

"And that's what makes you special, brother." He responded. "Well, my work here is far from done. I'll catch up with you later." He ended and rode off to a distance.

I stood there, watching as he rode off. "I'm afraid 'later' is going to take a little more longer, brother." I stood by the railings then looked at Watson. "I'm going to alleviate your thought process, Watson." I went down the bridge and stood by the edge of the river, placed my deerstalker, my pipe, his pistol and the book down. "Surely he'll know that it wasn't washed offshore."

And as expected, the sound of bobbies trying to find an escaped fugitive echoed through the street. I took my leave and headed to the Baker Street train station, gathering disguises as I made my way there. The game… the play… it has yet to end, my next location, Feldkirch, Austria.

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

" _The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist._ " I translated as I gazed into the stars. I put the novel left by Holmes down and there was a knock on the door, "Come in, Lestrade." I speculated.

"Well, he seemed to have leave a mark on you, hasn't he?" Inspector Lestrade responded as he entered the room.

"He sure has… Apologies for the lack of armchairs, only this one was still practical." I said, "To think that he is capable of explosions, fires…"

"Yes well, everyone has their ticking point. In any case, Mrs. Hudson is resting now."

"Even threatening you, Lestrade." I sighed.

Inspector Lestrade looked at me, baffled. "Threatening me?" He asked.

"Why he did threaten to kill you and your family didn't he?"

"He never did. Where did you hear this news?"

Confused, I looked at him and said "One of your bobbies said that he threatened to kill you and your family and said that you told them to bring him to Lancashire."

"I did no such thing, Dr. Watson."

I gave him a queer look, "Come," I stood up and grabbed my jacket. "We must leave for Scotland Yard." Lestrade and I then went to Scotland Yard only to find out that the Inspector Lestrade that was threatened disappeared after giving the orders to send Holmes to Lancashire.

"A fake, Inspector?" One of the bobbies inquired.

"I was held hostage in an abandoned building that day, I couldn't have been the one to give the orders."

"But he looked exactly like you, Inspector."

"A disguise, most probably."

"I'm sorry but has anyone found the body of Sherlock Holmes?" I chimed in.

"No body yet, sir." The bobby replied.

"This must mean… there must be a clue… Lestrade, we must return to Baker Street."

"What for?"

"The novel he left behind, it must have a clue in it." I explained as we rushed through the door and went back to Baker Street. We opened the door into the room and grabbed the book, "What are we searching for?" Inspector Lestrade asked.

"A note, a clue, anything that does not belong in the original printing." I flipped the book open and kept turning over the pages and there it was, on the index page. "I found something, look."

"But these are just numbers." Lestrade pointed out.

"That doesn't defeat the purpose of it, Lestrade. The numbers are arranged in a way that a sentence is written, numbers like 5;52;10 10;23;4 21;22;1. But what do they mean?"

Lestrade and I stood there, looking at the page, wondering what the numbers meant. "Could it be the page numbers?" Lestrade finally said.

"But then why would there be three numbers on each…" I paused, "That's it, Lestrade, you are a genius."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The first number indicates the page number, second number is designated to the line on the page and the third number-"

"The numbered word that is on that line."

"Precisely, put the words together and we have a sentence."

"Rather ingenious, this is."

We started working on finding the words immediately and took no notice of the time.

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

I arrived in Austria six hours later, it was a quiet ride. I looked at the clock and thought to myself 'Watson should be awake by now'. Very cautiously, I made my way to Feldkirch on a cab, it took me a few more hours to arrive there. I know this place isn't safe, Moriarty's henchman could be anywhere, but if Moriarty is as smart as I think he is, he'll be there alone. My destination was a Jesuit school called Stella Matutina, this was the last school Moriarty studied in.

I walked into the school only to find silence, no students, no teachers, just pure silence. There was, however, a trail of blood. I followed the trail into a classroom where a man was standing at the other side of the room, facing the other way.

"You're not Moriarty." I deduced.

The man turned around and looked at me, "He said you would figure that out."

"A former soldier and author I see."

"Sebastian Moran's the name."

"And you have a letter for me, Sebastian Moran. I suggest you hand it over."

"I would've wiped that smug look off your face the moment I met you." He claimed as he handed the letter over.

"I believe you would try." I countered, opening the letter and reading the contents.

A few moments later, Sebastian Moran said "Confused, Mr. Holmes?"

"I hate riddles," I said as I closed the letter, "but this is a tedious one, let him know I'll be there." I finished which led to me sending a telegraph and taking a train to Switzerland, or more specifically, Reichenbach Falls.

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

"It is complete." I happily proclaimed.

"What does it say?" Lestrade wondered as he came towards me.

"Dear what son," said I.

"What son?"

"It's supposed to be 'Watson', Lestrade." I explained. "Give me a few minutes, let me decrypt the words."

After minutes, I was finally done.

I read the message out, "Dear Watson, by the time you deciphered this, I would have already left Feldkirch. Hopefully by now you realize that the crimes I was accused of were nothing but deceptions made by a man to falsify me. The identity of this man remains apparent to me, if you wish to know everything, seek Mycroft. He will fill you in with everything that has happened and will happen."

"So he knows who framed him!" Lestrade noted.

"This is good, now London will realize that he isn't a criminal!" I proclaimed.

"I'll go get a cab for our passage to The Diogenes Club." Lestrade said as he opened the door.

I just smiled and continued looking at the message, I picked the book up and flipped through all the pages and to my surprise, there was another list of numbers at the back cover. Quickly, I took a pencil and decoded it. "I apologize in advance, Watson." Is he about to do something senseless? Before I could put the pencil away, Lestrade opened the door and mentioned that the carriage has arrived. I grabbed the book along with the messages with me and went on the cab.

"The Diogenes Club." I told the cabbie and we rode off. I chose not to tell Lestrade about that final message throughout our way there. We arrived soon and entered The Diogenes Club where silence was prioritized, so we made our way to The Strangers Room and found Mycroft sitting by his office table. "Dr. Watson, Inspector Lestrade." Mycroft addressed as he continued scribbling something.

"Mycroft." I nodded, "Holmes sent me a message about how you could tell me about what happened and what will happen?"

"Of course, please, sit." Mycroft said as he put his quill away. We took a sit and he walked towards us, "Do you know of a man called James Moriarty?" He questioned.

"I seem to recall that name but it appears vague in my memory." I responded.

"I don't blame you, he is an intelligent man gifted by nature. At the age of twenty-one he wrote a treatise upon the binomial theorem which has had a European vogue. As brilliant and wise as he is, the man had hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical kind. A criminal strain runs through his blood, his extraordinary mental capabilities renders him infinitely more dangerous. Sherlock would define him as 'The Napoleon of Crime', he is the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city."

"And he is in London right now?"

"He was, perhaps you'd recognize him as the Mrs. Hudson that returned from the market."

"What?!"

"Surprised, Dr. Watson?" He commented and the receptionist came in with a telegram message, "Read it, Dr. Watson."

I took the letter from the receptionist, "Mycroft, Moriarty's henchman, Sebastian Moran just had a face to face with me. Watson, I believe that my brother told you about Moriarty and how dangerous that vile man is. If you wish to come, I will be in Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland."

"I have already rented the fastest steam train in London at the Baker Street Station, I suggest you leave soon." Mycroft advised.

I made no argument and went straight to the train station with Lestrade following me.

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

Reichenbach Falls, one of the highest cataracts in the Alps. It was half past five, I am to meet Moriarty later at night. Meanwhile, I took residence in a nearby inn where thankfully, no one recognized me. As I sat in my room, the door opened and a man walked in. "Moriarty." I acknowledged.

"Holmes." Moriarty responded as he stood by the door.

"Take a seat." I waved to a chair.

"Much obliged, my legs are beginning to strain."

"So, why?"

"Haven't you heard? Whosoever takes over London, takes over the world."

"I have, except it was never your intention."

"Hmph, you are evidently good Sherlock Holmes." He stood up and began to leave.

"Leaving already?"

"Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."

"Then possibly my response has already crossed yours."

"Everyone says you're the best, Sherlock Holmes. They'll declare otherwise when I reign over you." Moriarty said as he walked out the door.

I looked at him as he left, a deep sigh expressed my stressed mind. Watson should arrive here in four hours, that's more than enough for me.

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

"You didn't have to come along, Lestrade."

"He's a friend to me as much as he is to you, Dr. Watson. God forgive his unfavorable attitude but he is still my friend."

I smile and nodded, "We will arrive soon." I pointed out. We got out from the train and left for Reichenbach Falls when a kid walked up to me, "Dr. Watson?" he inquired.

"How may I help you, young one?" I looked down and questioned.

"Mr. William Scott asks for your presence, sir."

"William Scott? Where am I to meet him?"

"The Great Deception Inn, sir."

"Thank you, lad."

I made my way to the inn and asked the inn keep about a William Scott, he directed me to his room and it was empty, on the table was a piece of paper with a quill on it. I turned around and spotted Lestrade looking around the room. My hand reached for the paper and flipped it around. After reading the contents on the letter, I hurried out to Reichenbach Falls.

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

"Beautiful scenery." I said as I walked towards Moriarty, who was holding a cane on a ledge on Reichenbach Falls. "The setting's a tad bit melodramatic wouldn't you say?"

"Not for this, no." Moriarty turned around.

"So, this is it. Hands applauding when the curtains are released and the play ends."

"Interesting illustration, Sherlock Holmes." He walked closer.

"You have a marvelous mind, Moriarty. The perfect swindle for the perfect mortification of my reputation." I smirked and stood face to face with Moriarty, "It would've been perfect except for one small element."

"Which is?"

"In the case of unarmed combat on the edge of a precipice, I have the upper hand."

Without hesitation, Moriarty pulled a sword out of his cane. "Unarmed combat, you say?"

"Unarmed combat" I reassured, as I held my left hand out to grab the sword while grabbing and pushing his arm away with my right hand, then I threw the sword down the Falls.

Moriarty chuckled as his sword obeyed gravity and fell down. "Typical." Said he.

He then, within a blink of an eye, hit me on the throat. I stepped back and felt a choking sensation on my throat, my hands on my throat. Moriarty then swung his fist at me, I managed to clutch onto his hand and punched him on the face with my left hand. He fell on the ground with his hand still on mine, I twisted his hand and he punched me in the stomach. He stood up, managing to heal his hand to a certain extent. "Your fall is inevitable, Sherlock Holmes. I assure you." He tried to punch me but I evaded it and attempted to dislocate his arm with my elbow, but he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me to the wall. "And now the play, has ended."

I punched him in the face once more but his hand stayed, so I resorted to kneeing his belly and he was repelled. The both of us panted and I said "The play is over, when I say it's over." I aimed for his chin but he did the same and we spouted blood from our mouths. Hastily, I used my hands to grab his head and kneed him on the face. He put his hand on his face and all I saw was blood gushing out like the Falls. We stood there for a moment, pain impacted our bodies. Moriarty then hit me on the torso with a strong blow, I could feel the impact on my ribs as I took a few steps back. Moriarty attempted to jab me but I blocked it and struck a blow on his body. Then he swung another fist at me, which I expected, I then used my arm to grab him by the neck and the other arm focused on restraining his movements. And from this side of the falls, …

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

I ran towards Reichenbach Falls and climbed it as quickly as I could, Holmes is in need of my assistance. I climbed the ledge and found Holmes having a fist fight with Moriarty. Holmes uttered something to Moriarty but the sound of the waterfall was overwhelming his voice, "Holmes!" I yelled out but to no avail. I tried to get closer but the ledge was getting steeper. I watched as Holmes blocked Moriarty's jab and punched his torso and that was when he saw me, then he restrained Moriarty and glanced at me and yelled something. I stood there, baffled, unsure what to do as I was unable to understand what he yelled. That was when Moriarty elbowed Holmes on his torso and punched his jaw, causing him to fall over. Moriarty then grabbed Holmes by the hair and punched him senseless. I tried to help but I had no clue what to do, that was when I realized what Holmes yelled, he yelled at me to shoot him. I pulled my pistol out and aimed at Moriarty when Holmes grabbed Moriarty's leg and pulled, causing Moriarty to fall over and Holmes bloodied his fists with Moriarty's blood from his face. I had to adjust my aim as everything was happening so fast and suddenly Holmes had Moriarty back at the same position and yelled again.

 _ **Holmes's Perspective: -**_

"Shoot him!" I yelled out to Watson as he was adjusting his aim from all the movements. He finally stopped and aimed at Moriarty, just when the trigger is pulled. A rock fell from above, it hit the ledge we were on and the ledge was falling over. I looked up to meet Sebastian Moran looking from above then running back, I turned my attention to Watson as he panicked and missed his first shot. Just as I was about to yell again, a bigger rock plummeted down.

 _ **Watson's Perspective: -**_

I aimed once more after the rock fell and just when Holmes tried to yell, a bigger rock dropped at a tremendous speed, causing Holmes and Moriarty to fall to their deaths. I was stunned, I looked down the Falls to find any sign of life… nothing. The mist was getting thicker and blocking my view so I went back to the ground and Lestrade found me, asking me what has happened. "Holmes, he… Moriarty…" was all I could say.

Back in Baker Street, I broke the news to Mrs. Hudson but failed to get in touch with Mycroft, he appeared absent from The Diogenes Club. I then decided to visit Sussex and inform Holmes' family about his death, it seemed, however, that Mycroft told them about it as soon as he got the news. Just as I was about to leave the weeping mother and father of the great Sherlock Holmes, Sherrinford stopped me. "I'd like to apologize, Dr. Watson."

"No need, Sherrinford. It is I who owe you an apology, for not saving your brother."

"I don't blame you, Dr. Watson. In any case, I sympathize with you. He was like a brother to you just as much as he is to me."

"Th… Thank you." I tried to hold my tears back.

"I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Dr. Watson." Sherrinford ended as he tended to his parents.

I couldn't believe it. The great Sherlock Holmes, gone.

 _3 Years Later_

"Are you certain?"

"I am. Call it 'The Vehement Conflict'."


End file.
